Wiped Off The Planet
by Lone Canadian
Summary: America throws away his history on accident and is faced with an obstacle he might not be able to overcome. He's slowly shrinking and growing younger! If he doesn't figure out how to get his history back, he and all of his people may never exist again. But is there a simple solution...or is repeating history his only choice? May become UsUk/UkUs


_The cold seeped through his feeble jacket that coated him with protection that was anything but. Scientifically, it was more like the heat was being sucked from his body but the snowy onslaught forced his mind to think only of the lack of warmth. He cuddled his arms, hugging his chest and bending over slightly as if he was caving in on himself. At this rate, that possibility didn't seem too far off. His breaths were shallow and cut short as the pain in his sides grew deeper when taking in the precious oxygen his body sought. The air formed icicles, shooting down his throat and skewing his lungs for daring to even breathe. He was going to collapse any minute, his will trembling at the mercy of this land of ice. A few more steps, not even a minute more, and his knees froze and crumpled to the ground, dragging the rest with them. His body rested on the surface of the snow while wind pummeled his face and bits of the white fluff carelessly dotted his eyelashes. This was how he was going to die. His vision fading, limbs refusing, and snow piling on top of his weak self; it was a pitiful sight and he couldn't say he was proud to be providing it. His eyelids were slowly closing and half way there when the snow stopped pelting his face but continued in spite on his back and side. He was too weak to look for the cause of this impossibility and finally felt his world go black as strong hands grabbed for him, saving his life._

America was surprised to find that he had left the ice-y wonderland and landed in the conference room for the World Meeting. There was no snow that had triumphed the heat and snuggled into his bomber jacket, his appendages were warm and moved freely about himself; there was no indication of the nightmare he'd been put through at all. Because that's what it was. A nightmare.

He scanned the room to search for a purpose of his presence and found none. The two bitter countries, England and France, were shouting at each other in the corner of the room, Spain and South Korea were arguing over a matter he couldn't quite overhear, Hong Kong and Greece seemed to be chatting about something delightful, and all in all, America was more or less left out. He placed his chin on his hand and slouched in his chair, ready to go back to sleep. With nothing interesting to keep him occupied, he might as well try to dream of something to wipe away the nightmare he just had. Dozing off sounded like a very good idea when Canada of all people marched his way over to America and stuffed his face too close to Alfred's for his liking.

"I know what you're hiding and I don't like it." Canada whispered to America with breath smelling as sweet as syrup.

"What? Mattie, I'm not hiding anything. I fell asleep and was about to again, thank you very much. So if you could just go play with Cuba or something, I'll-"

America's explanation was interjected as Canada reached down in front of America to a book lying face-down that Alfred must have been reading at some point. The cover looked unfamiliar and the binding screamed "Never opened in my existence". Matthew thumbed the pages, flipping through the entire book. His face softened as he set the book back down. "I'm sorry Alfred. I just thought you had been reading porn and I found it to be extremely rude when we were in the middle of a meeting."

Alfred bit his tongue to stop himself from asking what meeting he was even talking about, judging by the chaos in the room. Canada said a quick goodbye and left America sitting with the book sprawled on the table before him. Not having any such use for it, Alfred grabbed the story and chucked it into the garbage can near the door leading to the streets of Switzerland. He remembered the plane ride to the host country now. America was too tired to figure out what book that had been and didn't particularly care. If it had been important, he would have known it.

Alfred didn't even take notice of the fact that he was now an inch shorter.

* * *

"...Six, seven, eight, nine. Here you go." Alfred sang as he counted nine dollar bills and handed them to the cashier. He was handed back a receipt and 89 cents which he deposited in the small box near the register labeled "charity". Alfred picked up his fresh milk and walked out of Publix. Now his cereal wouldn't be forever alone anymore!

The sun was greeting the earth and brightening the sky to the point where it was the same shade of blue as America's own eyes. Alfred slid into the driver's seat of his car with the milk lying on the passenger side as he buckled his seat belt. Can't break his own laws now can he? Pulling out of the parking lot of the busy grocery store, the American started on his way home. Well, one of his houses at least. Today he was in Colorado. He had been missing his purple mountain majesties and wanted to get away from some of the heat he had been experiencing in Alabama before his trip to Switzerland.

America was in the middle of the intersection when he was taken over by a coughing fit and was helplessly trying to steer his car without too much luck. He was nearly hit as the light turned green and he was still in the center of the intersection. America swiveled his car in time and got onto the street he had been aiming for, nearly avoiding a collision with a dark blue Honda. Still coughing and needing desperately a drink of water, America looked around the car and scanned the road for anything to help him. Realizing his only choice sitting next to him, America quickly pulled the jug over and gulped down some milk. No one else was going to be drinking it anyways.

Re-capping the jug, the milk was placed back on its chair and America tried to calm himself as he drove down the road. Suddenly his body started to shiver and his coughing haunted him once more. But this time it was more painful. His eyes watered and the street was reduced to a blurry, wet collage. His mind went blank as his car thrust forward without his permission, being rammed in the back by a fellow driver, and the air-bags exploded from the abyss within his car. Again, he blacked out but knew for sure that this time it was real.

**I felt like writing a story and made this on the spot. No ideas, no forward thinking, nothing. At first I thought it was going to end up as some RusAme one-shot but I accidentally made ANOTHER ongoing fanfiction. I have way too many for a healthy person to handle now. So you wondering what's gonna happen in this? I am too! :D Isn't this exciting? Lol xD I'm going to work on a new chapter for A Truly Horrible Life next. And I still have to update Heroes Are Disguised and Breaking International Tension but no one really cared about that last one so I think I'm good there x3 I still have to do my summer homework! HUZZAH! Can't writing a bunch of fricking fanfictions be enough? Dx I have to read **_**A Separate Peace **_**and do 20 work sheets or something. That's what I get for going into a 10****th**** grade honors class as a 9****th**** grade noob. Oh well, we all smart here. Let's watch me fail my first assignment for high school as my laziness empowers me to dance and paste magazine pictures on my summer homework! HAHAHA, I wish.**


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